The Prisoner of Love By F. W. Orde Ward (F. Harald Wiliams) |
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October 4
NOT EVEN A LITTLE |
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 | The Prisoner of Love |  |
318
October 4 NOT EVEN A LITTLE
“Blessed is the man . . . watching daily at my gates.”—
Prov. viii. 34.
Not even a little sign of heed;
I only want to give,
And not to get release from need
By market coin or measured creed—
For none but Him to live;
And by my hourly toil to raise
Still higher on the breath of praise,
His high prerogative.
I am not worthy yet to stand
An outcast at His door,
Or be the besom in His hand
To sweep the temple floor.
I only want to give,
And not to get release from need
By market coin or measured creed—
For none but Him to live;
And by my hourly toil to raise
Still higher on the breath of praise,
His high prerogative.
I am not worthy yet to stand
An outcast at His door,
Or be the besom in His hand
To sweep the temple floor.
Not even a little thought of Love
Which ever floweth free
And gathers bird of prey and dove
In Pity clasping like a glove—
Not even this for me;
I only strive to honour Him,
And out of darkness cold and dim
His Shadow just to see.
I am not worthy to go up,
As others do arise
Who at His table sit and sup—
I dream of Paradise.
Which ever floweth free
And gathers bird of prey and dove
In Pity clasping like a glove—
Not even this for me;
I only strive to honour Him,
And out of darkness cold and dim
His Shadow just to see.
I am not worthy to go up,
As others do arise
Who at His table sit and sup—
I dream of Paradise.
| The Prisoner of Love | |